Tear of the Fauks
by chat-V-noir
Summary: A slave smuggler and an exile-agent of a secret organization; this story delves into the life of my OC, Triss, and her  mis adventures with the Champion of Kirkwall. Her intricate story will be told within. Some OC/Fenris
1. Meet the Fauks

Fenris sat back on his little cot as the ship set sail for Kirkwall. He intended to sail as far away as possible to gain better ground over his magister. He'd need extra hands, however, no matter how far he went. The elf pondered several different possibilities of confrontation. Fenris wound have to take on several mercenary jobs to get coin enough to hire thugs. He sighed inwardly and crossed his arms.

While he plotted vengeance, a thud beside him caught his attention. A smaller woman sat at his side, offering him a mug. He arched a brow at the redheaded woman on his bedroll, eyeing her suspiciously. Her long mahogany hair curled about the elbows, just recently pulled down from an up-do state. She turned her silky velvet eyes on his. He took the mug slowly, and watched as she sipped from her own cup.

"You look cold. It's Brandywine; 'will warm you right up, that." She said. Fenris had to admit, it was beginning to chill. He glanced over at the girl once more. She scoffed.

"I've already helped dish this out to over half the deckhands. Chill out, will you?" Her cool Nevarran accent drifted in her speech. Fenris hesitated before sipping at his drink. It was a simple, smooth beverage, with a bitter and tingly aftertaste; nothing special, but it was warm. The little woman looked him up and down, taking in his extraordinary appearance. Fenris gave her a quick, warning glare. She put her gloved hands up in defense.

"Alright, I won't pry." She said, somewhat defeated. Her dark eyes caught him as she took another swig from her tankard.

"I haven't seen you on deck." She stated. Fenris glanced to her. "What's your name, _kabethari_?" She asked. Fenris looked to her with surprise.

"You know the Qun?" He questioned. The little woman laughed.

"I like the culture." She leaned her head against the wood. "Now, your name, if you please."

"Fenris." He replied with a hint of smolder. She looked him over and smiled.

"Triss Fauks. Good to meet you." She smiled, "You're going to Kirkwall? Antiva not far enough for you?" She asked, smiling as she emptied her tankard. Fenris arched a brow at her. Triss awaited his response patiently.

"I need to get as far away as possible." He replied. Triss sighed.

"That's what they all say." She muttered.

"They?" Fenris questioned. Triss gestured to all the other elves on their level.

"Look around. You think all these elves are here to cook for the nobles? Why do you think you got a ride so easily?" She smiled and stood, "Well, this was a lovely chat, but captain's gonna miss me if I stay too long. I've a cabin upstairs if you wanna get...intimate." And with a click of the tongue and a wink, she was off on deck. Fenris was somewhat baffled by this random encounter. She was a curious one.

Fenris sighed to himself. He didn't have time for foolish distractions. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and noticed a piece of parchment at his side. Curiously, he picked it up. Hastily scribbled symbols were etched onto the paper. He understood these. Slaves would use them as a code to warn one another of danger, or simply for conversation. The little marks warned him of happenings upstairs. _Slavers…_

Fenris stood, alarmed at first, then calmly. He looked about to the other slaves being shipped to their freedom. Only he received such a note. Denarius must be onto him. Did Triss leave this for him? Was it a trap? Fenris thought to himself; the only way to see around this was to hide somewhere on the ship where no one would find him. But this was a ship; there weren't many places to hide. Perhaps he could bully one of the others to check out the deck for him. The slavers wouldn't be looking for anyone but him, and another elf could just as easily pass for a deck hand. There were many elves on this ship, and he was the only one that stood out. Fenris turned to a thin, light skinned and dark haired boy across from him.

"You, come here." He commanded. The other elf arched a brow and approached meticulously. Fenris dug about for the last bits of coin he had. "What do you know about the captain of this ship?" He asked. The boy looked to the lyrium etched elf wearily, stumbling over his words.

"The captain's a Nevarran hunter. He uses noble getaways as a cover up for slave transport… to get us to freedom." The boy toyed with his fingers.

"How long have you been here?" Fenris asked. The boy thought to himself for a moment.

"Almost a year…" He replied.

"And would you know of any hunters capturing the slaves?" Fenris pried. The boy shook his head.

"They've only come… maybe once..." He stopped for a moment, looking to the wilting parchment in Fenris's hand, "These are good folk here. They'd never sell out any of us. And Triss…" He nodded towards the letter. "She really is trying to help… She always is."

Fenris stared for a moment and grumbled inwardly, handing the boy all the remaining coin he had. The boy stared at it, and before he turned, he looked up to the elf again. "You have to trust her… She's been through more than most of us…" And he turned away, walking towards his cot. Fenris sighed and started towards the ladder to the deck.


	2. Shadow Hide You

About halfway up the wooden slabs, just below the noble's quarters, Fenris was snatched from the ladder. He immediately began to retaliate, thinking the hunters had caught him; but when he spun around, an elven deckhand shushed him. Fenris snarled at the man, but followed after him cautiously, hand still within reach of his sword.

The deckhand led him to a dimly lit room at the far end of the hall. He gestured for Fenris to step inside. The silver haired elf glared menacingly at him, slowly entering the room. The door swung shut behind him, and another candle was lit.

"Put that away, Fenris." A stern Nevarran voice commanded. Fenris dropped his hand and sighed.

"You can't blame me for being cautious." He stated. Triss stepped out of the dark of the room.

"No blame is being passed. I understand your need for secrecy. The slavers are frightening to us." She sat on the semi-padded bed, placing the candle on the little table beside her. Fenris didn't move from his position.

"Why did you bring me here? It's safer below deck." He asked. Triss nodded towards him.

"Slavers are on the ship disguised as nobles and bodyguards. Bottom is where they'll look first; and you, my friend, stick out like a sore thumb. Captain agreed that the best way for you to hide is with someone who hides best." She informed. Fenris arched a brow at the little woman.

"And you are that someone?" He asked. Triss bowed slightly.

"That I am. I'm the best." She said. Fenris took a steady step forward.

"Why are you helping me?" He asked finally. Triss sat forward and breathed deeply.

"I honestly can't answer that sufficiently. I could say that it's the right thing, but I can't believe it is." She replied.

"Why not?" Fenris took another tedious step.

"You never know what the Fates have planned until you draw your final breath. The only thing I have ever proven to do was to protect and destroy. I suppose that's what I do now, no? I have to assume that it's right." Triss shrugged and gestured the other elf over. Fenris sat on the opposite edge of the bed and looked questioningly at her.

"What did you do before this?" He asked. Triss fell backwards onto the bed, hands behind her head.

"That's confidential." She replied. Fenris decided not to pry any further.

The two sat in semi-silence for a while, the only sounds being the lapping waves on the side of the ship, and the commotion up deck. A loud banging at the door interrupted their thoughts, and Triss shot up. She stood and began rattling her hair and striping off bits of clothes. She barred off the door with a nearby quarterstaff.

"What's that?" Fenris asked, alarmed at the sudden change in attitude.

"Slavers! They're probably using your lyrium to track you down." Triss replied, getting down on her knees to look under the door.

"Why aren't you protecting the others?" Fenris asked somewhat angrily. Triss stood and stared.

"It's not unusual to find a ship full of slaves, but you'll be found out immediatly. Judging from the ammount of lyrium in you're skin, you're extremely valuable not just to your master, but to the Imperium." She gestured to him. The banging came more forcefully.

"Get under the bed. Now!" She commanded in a frantic whisper. Fenris had no time to argue before she pushed him off the bed. He crawled beneath as the loud banging came again and again. He heard the door swing open and a whimper from Triss. Fenris began to feel guilty for not being able to help, but pushed away the thought as she spoke.

"I do not understand…" She cried quietly, defenseless in the slaver's grip.

"The tattooed elf! Where is he?" A slaver roared, squeezing the elven girl's arm. Triss whimpered again.

"I haven't seen… any tattooed elf…" She stammered. Fenris heard a thud on the floor and watched silently as a slaver kicked at Triss's side.

"This love-wench is useless; only use in her is for rousing up." A slaver snickered. He lifted her off of the floor by her crimson hair and showed her to his companions. They chuckled with pleasure.

"We could certainly cause a ruckus with this pretty thing." Another stated.

"Leave her. We should get going." The third included.

"Oh, shut up will you?" The first snickered. An unfamiliar voice joined in.

"Gentlemen, I ask that you be careful with my wife. She is rather fragile." A raspy, commanding voice interrupted. The slavers snarled at have being interrupted.

"This bitch is your wife?"

"Of course; I am the only one who can enjoy her. Clever, no? Again, I ask that you put her down, _now_." The strong voice demanded.

"Yes… Captain." The slavers spat and dropped a rather limp Triss to the floor. The clanking of their metal boots faded along with them up deck. Fenris saw the captain bend down to Triss, offering her a strong, tanned hand. She grabbed at it, no longer a fragile little elf, but a strong, fortified woman.

"Shadows be damned. What a rough bunch." Triss scoffed. The captain chuckled and helped dust her off.

"I'd suggest being a bit less lenient in the future." He smirked to her. Triss returned his friendly smile.

"Now take care, both of you." The captain announced with a wave, heading back up deck. Triss bent down and gestured for Fenris to come out, comforting him like a child hiding from a storm.

"Come on. We're safe now." She said as he crawled out from the tight space.

"I thought you said you were hiding." He said. Triss shrugged.

"The Shadows aren't just about being unseen. It's also about deception." She informed. Fenris sat back down.

"They will be back." He frowned.

"Not on this ship they won't. Captain's already scared them off."

"Speaking of the captain…" Fenris began. Triss laughed.

"No, we aren't married. We are full of different lies and tricks for different parties." She looked to Fenris. "Would you be jealous?" She asked. Fenris scoffed.

"Your affairs are your own. I have no say in a stranger's life." He replied. Triss nodded.

"Good. I don't like you either." She joked. Fenris smirked. She was an interesting character. Then his oppressed frown returned. Earlier she mentioned his markings being lyrium.

"How did you know about my markings?" He asked with a hint of accusation in his tone. Triss turned to him, confused. Her gaze softened and she sighed, barring the door off again. Fenris watched curiously as she whirled back around, removing one of her long, black gloves. He stared with wide eyes as she revealed her own tattoos. Thin black lines trailed her arm; rivers of shimmering red swimming by them. The design was intricate and unusual, like that of old, undescovered ruins in fables.

"You aren't the only one who's suffered this punishment." Triss said, her arm hypnotizing the elf.

"What… is that?" He asked; his breath whisked away. Triss pulled her glove back down, hiding her curse.

"A deadly poison." She informed, "Engraved into any other sod and they'd be dead within seconds." Triss sat on the bed next to Fenris, scoffing and turning a smile on him.

"Enough of this. Tell me of your markings. We need good conversation to pass the time." She smiled. Fenris looked down at his lyrium etched skin and frowned, knowing that is was best not to pry right now.

"Magisters…"


	3. Threads of Termoil

A fortnight passed before the ship docked at the Free Marches. Triss strode up the steps to her captain, whom was piloting. Fenris was at her heels, weary from the trip, and cautious of hunters. The captain caught a glance of the two before taking his hands from the wheel. Triss wiped her brow and flashed a cheeky smile.

"Good evening, Captain William." She greeted. The captain returned the girl's smile and nodded towards Fenris.

"Evening, Triss. Your friend must be the one causing all the fuss." The Captain William chuckled. Fenris said nothing. "What's your name?" William asked the elf. Fenris stared momentarily before being nudged by Triss.

"Fenris." He replied, casting an annoyed glance at Triss. The two had grown on each other more that they should've during four days. Perhaps it was because they endured similar pasts? The captain noticed this, and smiled warmly.

"Well Fenris, I must thank you for accompanying my dear friend. She was so lonely." William jest. Triss stuck her tongue at him and tossed a lemon.

"Will, you had something for our dear friend here." Triss reminded. William chuckled and dug deep into the pack at his side, retrieving a small but significant amulet by its silver chain. Fenris gently took it in his hand.

"What is this?" He asked, staring at the fine, undamaged gem.

"A gift from a friend. Consider is a token of promise." William smiled.

"A promise for what?" Fenris asked, the moonstone glinting in the sun.

"A promise that you always remain hidden." Triss shrugged, a silly smirk on her face. Fenris stared meticulously for a moment. Triss rolled her dark eyes and took the necklace, tossing around on the boy's neck. "Now get going." The little woman smiled. Fenris started off, stepping onto port. He turned back to the ship that began sailing away. Triss leaned over the side at the last moment and mouthed the words '_May Shadows hide you, friend!'_

William turned to look back at Triss, who was turning away from the port. She looked to her friend with a smile.

"I'm going to miss him." She stepped up to the Captain's side, a hand on the wheel. William chuckled.

"It's rare indeed when we get ones like that." William nudged the little woman lightly. "Do you have a photo?"

"I do. Isn't it gorgeous?" She retrieved a parchment from her pocket and showed the larger man. He smiled.

"It is indeed! I am forever appalled by your skills." He chuckled. Triss stared at it for a while.

"I'll put this with the others and tend to the 'cargo' downstairs." She began walking away. William nodded and continued on sailing his ship.

**A Period of Three Years Drags Her By the Ears.**

Triss sat at a table, silver tipped quill in hand. She wrote rapidly in a little book. Her long crimson hair was pulled up into a bun as to not get in the way of her duties. Another year of sailing back and forth through Thedas was not sitting well with her. She missed being able to walk for miles on end, slicing and dicing with her unique blades; to be able to walk through towns and cities, with the occasional debauchery. All that had been taken from her now. There was no way she'd ever get that back. Not her fellows, not her adventures.

A loud crash from the deck caught her attention. She snapped the book shut and shoved it into her blouse pocket. Triss practically flew up deck to see the dark skies and flying reds. Her eyes widened with disbelief as she shoved the elves into boats, making her way to William. The Captain was manning the cannons, fighting off the attackers.

"Will!" Triss called out. He turned for a second at her call.

"Triss, get out of here!" He commanded. Triss shook her head violently, reaching for the knives in her bootleg.

"We'll fight them off!" She demanded. Will grabbed her arm forcefully, throwing her to the edge of the ship.

"We are going to fall! There is nothing we can do." He frowned. Triss took a step back, avoiding the stampedes of slaves.

"You must come too!" Triss protested. William drew his sabre, an all too familiar sign to Triss's memory. She held back a sob and turned, leaping over the edge and falling into the sea.

**What Our Lady Lachesis Deems End, Atropos Will Make It So.**

Fenris sat quietly in his new mansion, staring over the walls and flooring. It was a filthy place. Hawke and Bethany had attempted to come over and clean earlier that day, but they ended up at the Hanged Man. He'd heard from Isabella that a ship full of cargo had been shot down by Qunari ships. He recognized the description to be the same one that'd helped him escape. He frowned at this as the others played a round of Wicked Grace before bed.

It was almost dawn now. Fenris hadn't any more time to be saddened by the deaths of those he didn't know. Denarius was still after him. Until the Magister lie dead, Fenris could not be distracted. Hawke would meet with them later about a few jobs he'd managed to scrounge up. He stood, taking his great sword in hand, and headed out towards the Keep to meet with Aveline. While he waited, he might as well try to pry some information out of her.


	4. Clipped Flight

It was cold and dark. Water lapped on a pale, bloodied, and bruised body.

_Where am I? What's happened? Who's there?_

A thousand questions streamed through her mind all at once. The attack on her ship had sent her drifting out at sea. Now she felt bare and defenseless. The crisp air of the south stung her. She tasted the filthy air. She was in the Free Marches; she'd determined. Her salt crusted eyes finally opened, stinging as harshly as her wounds. The sky was dark and heavy with storm clouds. She sat up and watched as a couple of urchins fled with her coin. She didn't chase them. She was in no position to hunt down children.

The little woman looked about, surveying her surroundings. She was in Kirkwall. The air here was different from the other times she'd been. There was a thick tension occupying the room for breath. She stood, wobbling to her feet. Her hand immediately lashed out for her neck. She grabbed at the small chain there and held tightly, sighing in relief. She dropped her hands to her sides and started up the stairs, heading for the higher grounds. On her way, she passed a closed off compound. Curiously enough, Qunari inhabited the area. That must've been the source of all the tension. The little fire haired woman passed by, continuing her hike up the stairs.

Eventually she stumbled into what was Lowtown. Now what? Where would she go? She had absolutely no idea what to do. Where would she stay? There must've been a tavern of sorts somewhere… The little woman scouted for a tavern and caught herself at the doors of one; The Hanged Man. She heard a sort of snicker and abominable noise. She whirled around; her black eyes set on a man in a black, half-cape, two more men of the same uniform behind him. Curious, the little woman approached the three in the alley; utterly confused and alert.

"Little poppet, it is so good to see you." The leader of the three grinned maliciously. The little woman's brow furrowed. She crossed her pale arms and shifted her weight to her right foot.

"Morris, what are you doing here?" She asked accusingly, "The Order said I was to be cut from all ties."

"Oh little, naïve poppet. Can you not greet a simple social calling?"

"This is no social call. This is violation of the tenets!" The woman yelled back furiously.

"My, my; the little exile is all in uproar over her lost laws." Morris sneered.

"What have you done Morris?" The woman asked finally. The man's face became dead set serious.

"Alberich… he's escaped." He replied. The woman arched a brow.

"Al? What has he done?" She asked, appalled. Morris grinned.

"Well, for helping you in stealing the Artifact, of course."

"We weren't stealing it Morrison Gales, and you know it!" The little woman spat. Morris backed away.

"You shouldn't speak to your betters that way, _Treasa of Arachne…_" He practically spat the name with disgust, stepping forward menacingly. Triss stood her ground, staring back just as viciously.

"We will be watching you, poppet." Morris sneered, turning on his heel. The other two followed after him. Triss watched as they disappeared, sighing into her hands. She turned back to the tavern, opening the doors. A brawl had broken out, and lots of blood sprayed in her direction. She groaned and shut the door, turning around towards Hightown.

Near the market district, men in black uniforms matching Morris's stepped out of alleyways, weapons armed and trained on Triss. She stopped, looking over her opponents. Each one was perfectly capable of capturing her in this position. Some were simple mercenaries in fancy outfits. Triss began to back away. The crowd of hunters came towards her. She turned and ran fast down the steps, skipping several with each pounding of her feet. The men were fast. They caught up with her. Triss took a sharp turn and quickly scaled up a building, running along the rooftops.

Some of the men followed after her, chasing her back down to Lowtown. Triss could spot the drastic change in rooftops. Some men slipped and fell back to the ground. The others wouldn't fall as easily. Triss sighed inwardly and flicked her fingers, small knives protruding from her sleeves. She slung one black blade at a man, the knife imbedding into his eye. He screeched, falling. The knife came back to Triss's fingers as if it were on string. She looked in front of her just in time to leap to another set of houses. The landing was great, until the thatched roof collapsed beneath her. Triss let a sharp shrill escape her as she toppled down with the rubble.


	5. Beginings

A small shriek was heard, and Triss's eyes shot open. She moved to jump up, but was sore, and a stone had caused severe damage to her leg. Triss cursed herself as she attempted to move again, yet to no avail. After a moment's hesitation, an elven woman rushed forward, clearing the unexpected visitor of all rubble. Triss wiggled her way out of the splintered wood and pebbles, desperately trying to escape before she was reported to the guard.

"Are you alright?" The elf asked asked; her Dalish accent thick in her speech. Triss moaned a response, unable to manage more than that. The woman helped her onto her feet, steadying her. Triss would have to limp until her leg was bandaged.

"Oh this is terrible!" The Dalish girl gasped, "We should clean you up."

"I'm fine." Triss wheezed, the dust and dirt causing her to cough. Despite her protest, the Dalish woman still held her up. She led the little woman to the bathroom, undressing her. Triss gave in and let the Dalish woman aid her. She'd need the assistance anyway. If she went outside the way she was, she was guaranteed to be captured. When the Dalish woman began to remove the black and blue beads about the wrist of her left, gloved arm, Triss pulled away.

"Leave them on." She demanded. The Dalish didn't question and helped her in the tub of boiled water. Triss grit her teeth as the warm water rushed into her wounds. The elf snatched up a cloth and small soaps and began working on the woman's skin.

She scrubbed at Triss's scalp as the fire haired girl downed some fresh water. Weariness washed over her as water was run through her dripping hair. She sighed heavily as the Dalish finished wiping the last bits of rubble and blood away; then wrapped up the leg wound. She rushed off to get a woolen blanket for Triss to dry off. The thick blanket was tossed onto her shoulders as she stepped out of the tub. The Dalish woman sat her down at the table and handed her another glass of water. Triss drank from it and coughed. The Dalish pat her back gently.

"What happened?" She asked at last, her curiosity finally winning over. Triss leaned her head back and rubbed her tired eyes. She wrapped the blanket tighter around her bare body and cleared her throat.

"Someone is after me." She replied simply. The Dalish seemed to perk up at this.

"Oh! I know Hawke could help you with that! He does those things all the time!" She smiled brightly. Triss arched a brow. Hawke sounded like a very important person. But first things first…

"Thank you…" Triss sighed.

"Oh, my name is Merrill." The Dalish smiled. Triss shut her eyes tight. _No, no, no! Don't tell me your name!_

"Thank you Merrill… But…" Triss began. Merrill stood suddenly.

"Wait right there." She spun about to a small table and retrieved a little brush. "Your hair is a mess." The little Dalish began combing away. Triss groaned inwardly. The Dalish truly were naïve. Now Triss felt utterly helpless. Merrill brushed out her long, red hair, untangling the knots. They sat in semi-silence; with Merrill brushing away, humming all the while. Triss recognized the tune as an old Dalish song. In Uthenera, she was certain it was.

"There you go, all clean." The naïve woman smiled, her large green eyes growing thoughtful. "You don't have a place to stay, do you?" She asked. Triss frowned.

"You don't have to do this." She stated. Merrill shook her head.

"I do. If anything were to happen to you out there now, I'd feel responsible. You can stay here until we find you a room." Damn, Dalish were stern. Triss sighed in defeat.

"Do you have any clothes for me?" She asked, glancing over to her beyond repairable outfit. Merrill nodded and hurried to a dresser, returning with skin-tight leather pants and a bodice. Triss arched a brow.

"Well, I don't have much. We can go buy more later, if you like." The Dalish smiled awkwardly. Triss stared at her for a moment, then smiled, then began giggling like mad.

"I suppose I'll have to stay to fix the roof." She shrugged. Merrill grinned happily. "Thank you, Merrill."


	6. The Hawke

Triss awoke in the wooden chair she'd been sitting in the night before, sore and stiff. The leather bodice squeezed at her abdomen a bit, restricting her breathing. But eventually it would wear down to her fit; Merrill had loaned her a spare Dalish tunic to wear over the clothes, and promised she'd get something better to clothe her in the morning.

It was dawn now, and Merrill was bustling, preparing for something seemingly important. The roof was mostly patched over, but they still needed a better fix, and the Dalish woman constantly stepped around the stray rubble. Merrill sped past her new, but temporary, roommate and snatched up her staff, locking it into place at her back. Triss arched a brow at the speedy little Dalish.

"Everything alright, Merrill?" She asked, twirling a lock of burgundy hair with her elbow on the table. Merrill stopped and stared for a moment.

"Oh… yes. I was just getting ready to see Hawke." She sighed and sat down at the table. "But it is only dawn. Sorry." Triss chuckled and waved it off.

"It's alright Merrill." She leaned on the table, laying her head on her arms.

"Did you sleep well? I'm sorry I couldn't offer the bed… it was covered with the roof's thatching." Merrill started. Triss nodded and looked up at her with her deep black eyes.

"I'm fine Merrill. It's alright." She stood, balancing herself, careful of her wounded leg. "Since we're up so early, how about finishing that roof of yours, eh?" Merrill gave her a soft smile and followed after her. A loud knock at the door startled the two. Triss quickly got into a defensive stance, reaching for the small of her back, where she hid some knives in her bodice. Merrill simply walked over to the door, shoving it open. A man, a human, with side swept hair and dark golden eyes, smiled in a charming manner at Merrill. The Dalish stared in surprise.

"Hawke? What are you doing here so early?" She asked. The man called Hawke gestured behind him.

"We have a bit of an issue in the Wounded Coast. I figured we could go for some early air." He replied. Merrill nodded. At that moment, Hawke noticed the little woman in the back of the room, relaxing her grip on the knives. Merrill looked between the two and jumped.

"Oh! Hawke, this is Triss. She fell through my roof last night. It was quite exciting, the best thing that's happened yet, in fact." The Dalish woman grinned. Hawke arched a brow and chuckled.

"Well Triss, thanks for the entertainment." He turned back to Merrill, "Varric will want to hear this story." Merrill nodded in agreement. Triss slowly strode over to the two.

"Triss, would you like to come to the Wounded Coast with us?" Merrill asked suddenly. Triss shrugged in response.

"Oh? Do we have a new recruit in our merry band of misfits?" Hawke smiled. The little redheaded woman stared, scanning him. Hawke was defiantly a charming fellow. But he also could help her; she saw the red flames of benevolence burning in his eyes.

"I suppose I could tag along for a while. Maybe…" She thought to herself for a moment. Hawke arched a brow.

"Well, if you're coming along, we should introduce you to everyone; drinks at the Hanged Man after our little adventure!" He said after a moment. Triss looked to Merrill, whom was smiling happily, and followed after Hawke. The three left the Alienage, unknowing of the black cloaked figure with heavy blue eyes trailing them from the shadows.


	7. The Merry Band of Misfits

The three came back from their bandit slaughtering in the cold and shoved open the doors to the Hanged Man. The place was absolutely filthy. The smells of piss and vomit corroded Triss's nostrils. She looked around at the people. The old tavern certainly had a charm to match the vile aroma. The characters of the place were quite odd, but then again, they were all drunkards. Triss thought back for a quick moment. It wasn't nearly as bad as the inn in a backwoods town in Antiva. She giggled to herself.

Hawke led her and Merrill to a room in the back. The room was obviously the largest in the tavern; and dead center, sitting in a throne-like chair, was a very, obviously, charismatic beardless-dwarf, his hands clasped together. Hawke smiled and waved his greetings. The dwarf almost immediately acknowledged the extra companion after he said his extravagant hellos.

"Andraste's great sanctified ass…" The dwarf stood from his chair, approaching the little redheaded woman. She stared back at him with the same expression.

"Varric Tethras…" Triss grinned, crossing her arms. The dwarf let out a loud, somewhat relieved laugh.

"Triss Fauks! By my ancestors, how've you been girl?" Varric opened arms for an embrace, which Triss returned.

"Unpleasant, as always." She laughed. Varric pat her back and grinned.

"Tell you what, I buy drinks, and we can trade stories." He offered. Triss smiled.

"If your dear friends here would allow such a thing." She gestured to Hawke and Merrill, whom both had extremely confused expressions plastered onto their faces. Varric laughed and gestured to Triss.

"Hawke, Daisy, meet Triss Fauks, part-time minstrel, occasional bounty hunter, and full time Hellion."

"How do you do?" Triss bowed low, completely unladylike. As she threw her head back up, her long, thick hair flailed back out behind her, a woman stormed up the steps.

"There you are! I've been looking for you!" She started, noticing the unfamiliar face. "Who's this sweet thing?" A charm enveloped her as she closed in on Triss. She was Rivaini, and a Pirate, judging from her appearance.

"Triss, sweetling. Who might you be?" Triss smirked seductively, playing along. The pirate turned back to Hawke, a giant grin on her face.

"Can we keep her?" She asked with way too much enthusiasm. Triss laughed as Hawke nodded.

"Captain Isabella, at your service, darling." The pirate bowed, purposefully showing off more cleavage than necessary. Triss arched a brow and stroke the tip of her ear.

"I do believe we've met… At port in Antiva." She noted. Isabella stared at Triss for a moment, processing. Her eyes widened with surprise.

"Oh! That's right! You were there with your hunk of a man, hunting some sod that stole the King's scrolls!" Isabella laughed. "You and your friend… 'paid me' for my helpful services." Isabella smiled and winked. Triss played in with the seductive game and stepped up to the pirate, twirling a lock of her dark brown hair.

"Perhaps I could give you 'compensation' for last time's oh so helpful hints." She smiled. Hawke cleared his throat.

"Sorry to interrupt, but could we possibly get drunk before going any further?" He asked. Merrill remained clueless.

"What? Were they suggesting something dirty?" She asked. Triss giggled.

"Yes, kitten, _very_ dirty." Isabella purred.

Varric gestured them all down the stairs and sat them at a corner table. Another figure joined them as they all sat down. Varric went off to order drinks, and Hawke greeted the other man.

"Hard day Anders?" He asked. The man, a mage, Triss could obviously tell, nodded tiredly.

"More refugees fill the clinic every day. It won't be much longer until the templars hear of me." Anders replied. Isabella groaned.

"Oh hush Anders. Keep your gloom out of the tavern." She commanded as Varric returned with a waitress, whom set all their mugs on the table. Triss counted one extra and arched a brow at the dwarf.

"Who else is coming?" She asked.

"Maybe no one. We never know. There are at least four more people you haven't met." Hawke replied, taking up a tankard. The others did the same in turn, and Triss took the second to last foaming mug. She looked at all of her soon to be companions, arching a brow as she stared over the rim at Varric. The dwarf stared back at her with a grin.

"So Triss, why don't you tell us what you've been up to, just to pass the time?"

"You sure you want to hear it?" Triss asked jokingly. Varric leaned forward in his seat.

"Try me."


	8. The Not So Merry Band of Misfits

"That's a good thing you do." Isabella said, emptying her third mug and spreading her cards.

"Used to do. The ship is gone and so is the head of the operation. Someone else will have to take over." Triss sighed as she sipped out of her fifth. Hawke spread his cards and shook his head.

"You did what you could do, and that's good enough, right?" He smiled at her. Triss shrugged and chugged down the rest of the ale, swinging it in the air for more.

"Calm down Triss. All this goes on my tab, you know." Varric threw down his cards, taking the coin on the table. Triss looked at him dumbly.

"I can pay you off Varric. You know this." She replied simply. Anders arched a brow.

"Really? I don't see a coin purse on you." The mage said. Triss lolled her head towards him.

"Captain Obvious has the most remarkable powers in the world." Triss commented as a barmaid filled her tankard. Varric cleared his throat as Isabella took the coin this round.

"Triss is like a magnet. Coin always has a way of finding her, so to speak." The dwarf chuckled at the last bit. "I did say she's a hellion."

"I only owe you about eighteen coppers, Varric." Triss said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "I could easily find it on the ground somewhere."

"Knowing you, you probably will." Another voice joined the party. The group at the table turned their eyes on a brunette male in white plate and chainmail, hair sleeked back and bright blue eyes sparkling. The others smiled lightly. Triss shot up out of her chair and grinned wildly.

"Sebastian!" She jumped at the man, squeezing the breath out of him. "By the Shadows, you certainly have changed." She laughed, releasing the chantry boy.

"I am able to keep to my promises now." Sebastian smiled warmly to his old friend.

"How do you two know each other?" Hawke asked. Triss dragged over another chair for the Vael Prince and sat him down.

"Triss and I were partners during my time of rebellion." Sebastian replied. Isabella leaned forward.

"Really? Oh, do tell Triss!" The Rivaini grinned. Triss laughed and set her empty mug on the table.

"Perhaps another time." Triss replied. "So, what are you up to Sebastian? Chantry boys don't come down to taverns just to preach." She put her chin in her palm and stared intently at the prince. Sebastian looked over to Hawke and responded with a nervous cough at the mention of his story.

"Aveline came down to the Chantry and asked if we could help her on her patrol tonight. The pretend guardsmen are getting out of hand." He informed. Hawke nodded and looked over to Triss.

"What do you say? Are you up for more daring attacks?" He asked. Triss laughed and nodded.

"Always."

**Halfhearted Emotion Will Result in Half a Tongue**

Night fell on Kirkwall, and the party set out to meet in Hightown's market. The woman addressed as Aveline was standing by the stairwell. She stood with another woman in, what Triss believed to be, lovely looking garb. Hawke approached the two, the whole of the party behind them. The Aveline woman had ginger hair and bright green eyes; the other had black hair and the same fire set eyes as Hawke, obviously a sister.

"Hawke." Aveline greeted, waving simply to the others. Triss observed her. She was a serious woman, straight to the point and outstanding. "Who's this?" She asked. Observant too, Triss noted.

"Bethany, Aveline, our new buddy, Triss Fauks. Triss, my sister Bethany and our dearest guardsman Aveline." Hawke introduced them with a bow.

"Hi." Triss wiggled her fingers in a wave and waited orders. Aveline nodded. Bethany smiled warmly.

"We'll split into groups. Defensives and offensives should be put together." Aveline began.

"Two groups should be enough." Hawke suggested, his leadership traits being put to use. "You lead one, I lead the other?" He shrugged. Aveline nodded.

"Fine by me. Merrill, Anders, Varric… Isabella, come with me." It was evident in her tone that she didn't like Isabella very much. Hawke nodded and the three moved towards the guardswoman.

"Hello lady man-hands." Isabella teased. Aveline rolled her eyes and waved goodbye, heading out through Hightown. Hawke was partied with Sebastian, Bethany, and Triss. They took the opposite route, disappearing around a corner; just coming face to face with cutthroats. Sebastian glanced over at Triss.

"Just like old times, eh friend?" He chuckled, drawing his bow. Triss smiled, snatching the blades from her back.

"Almost."

The group cut through the little patches of bandits and pretend guardsmen, passing by the rather impressive chantry and a housing district. They were backed into a corner; Triss figured Hawke was doing this purposefully for some reason. He alone could easily overtake them, given time.

As she slung her knives about, slicing and dicing with their invisible threads, Hawke backed up, standing with his back against a door, and slammed the pommel of his sword against it three times. Triss arched a brow, but caught her mistake just as a sword came swinging by her throat. She bent backwards, her head on the ground. She slammed her palms on either side of her, and pushed up. Her legs went up in the air and locked around her attacker's neck. She pulled herself up and stabbed the man under his helmet, striking his jugular.

The clanking of more metal boots approached. Triss stood on the now bleeding out man's shoulders and leapt onto another, her foot crashing into one's head, and her blade sticking in another's eye. Sebastian shot at another coming at her from behind. Bethany cast a cone of ice at a group coming towards her. Hawke sliced through the frozen opponents; and the last man standing was crushed by another heavy blade descending upon him. Strange, there were only four of them. Where did this one come from?

The body fell and Hawke smiled. Bethany wiped her brow and cast side glances at Sebastian, obviously she had a thing for him. Sebastian slung his bow behind his back.

"Good to see you join us, Fenris." The prince commented. Triss arched a brow and whirled around. Fenris, lyrium markings and all, stood a few strides away. Hawke smiled at the elf.

"Aveline should be coming around soon." He started. Fenris nodded. Triss stared for a moment before scratching her ear.

"What kind of greeting is this?" She snorted. Fenris blinked, finally taking notice of the extra companion.

"Triss? I heard about the ship; I though…" He began. Hawke looked between the two.

"Am I the only one that hasn't met you before?" He asked. Bethany raised an arm.

"I think she was visiting Old Berlin once…" She added. Triss looked to the little girl and smiled.

"That's right. I remember you." She turned her gaze back to Hawke, "I don't recall your face though."

"He and Carver went to Ostagar. I was home in Lothering with mother." Bethany nodded.

"So everyone knows who I am, aside from you, Anders and Aveline." Triss counted out on her fingers as the rest of the party rounded the corner.

"Everyone alright?" Aveline questioned; a good woman, Triss nodded. Hawke turned and smiled.

"Just a bit rattled. We've been without a mug for over an hour!" He laughed, suggesting their usual celebratory routine. The odd party gathered together. Triss waved them off, noticing that Fenris was staying behind.

"I'll meet with you later. I want to catch up here." She notified. Isabella looked back at her and waved carelessly.

"Go on sweet thing, have your fun. We won't wait on you!"


End file.
